


Arm Candy

by ghostrhi



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrhi/pseuds/ghostrhi
Summary: You'd done it hundreds of times; acting as the date to a fancy event. All you needed for is to draw suspicion away from your partner and provide cover if needed. So what you had a tiny crush on said partner.Arm candy; how hard could it be?
Relationships: Nathan Drake/Elena Fisher, Victor Sullivan/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

The restaurant was like every other fancy schmancy restaurant you’d been invited to: dimmed lights, modern decor, and chatter kept to a low volume so that each accidental scrape of a steak knife on the ceramic plates cut through the air well, like a knife. This ‘date’ was also much like a majority of ‘dates’ you’ve been on: a man on the aged side of middle-aged sitting across you talking work and business and boring stuff while you pretend to be interested in the conversation when really you’re interested in the cheque the man will give you at the end of the night. 

What made tonight stand out, however, was the fact that this one was much more boring and slow paced compared to the others. Additionally, the others didn’t have a man sit three tables behind your date wildly flapping his menu about in a subtle move to get your attention. Well this mystery man got your attention, and the rest of the restaurant patron’s attention. He paused his weird dance to look at you over the top of his menu. 

Realisation dawned on you and you fought back the urge to laugh. Of course Nathan Drake would try to pull a stunt like this. Once Nathan realised he had your attention he began to nod his head to the door. 

Okay, he wanted a conversation. Well, he was going to wait until after you were done. You liked this client, Robert, even if he was a little dull tonight. Plus, you just finished entrees and the main course was on its way. You shook your head slightly, hoping that he’d get the hint and come back after your date was done. Nathan shook _ his _ head and gestured more urgently, whatever he needed to talk about he needed to talk about _ now _ . You rolled your eyes and shot him a look that hopefully conveyed just how much that wasn’t happening. _ Not a chance in hell bud. _

“Is there anything wrong, dear?” Your date asked, interrupting the silent argument between you and Nate. He looked worried, and you felt a little charmed by this man: he genuinely cared about you. That’s cute. Slightly annoyed, you took a second to collect yourself.

“No…” your eyes tracked Nate as he gets up from his table and obviously, in the subtle kind of way, moved towards the bathrooms. “I thought I recognized someone but I was wrong.” You explained, trying to recapture the attention of your date as he looked over his shoulder to scan the room behind him. 

“Are you sure?” Robert asked. You nodded, barely paying attention to your date as Nate stood in front of the corridor and made a sweeping bow. _ After you _, he mouthed. 

Your eyes flicked back to your date. “Actually, honey, I’ll be right back.” You leaned across the table and presssed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering there as you added, “I won’t be long.” That sated him, and he looked less worried. As you walked towards the bathrooms, you sent Robert a sultry look over your shoulder with a small wave. His shoulders relax and he smiled, thinking he’ll probably get some action tonight. 

As you entered the corridor, Nate grabbed you and pulled you into the nearest bathroom. You let out a noise of protest during the flurry and couldn't help but to be a little irritated at Nate. He let go of you in favour of checking the bathroom stalls to make sure that no one else is in there. You took a second so that your eyes could adjust to the sudden change of lighting levels. You hadn’t realised how much you were squinting in the restaurant.

“Nate, what the hell?” You asked, not too unkindly. Being man-handled wasn’t your favourite pastime. You quickly smoothed out your evening dress, a classic floor length black dress with a slit up one leg, to look semi-presentable for when you left this impromptu meeting. 

Satisfied that you’re alone, Nate turned to you. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your um-”

“Date.” You supplied with a smile, leaning back onto the counter behind you. You got pulled into the woman’s bathroom and you couldn’t help but be glad. Less explaining for you to do if Robert decided to go into the bathroom as well. 

“-Date? He looked a little….. old, Y/N.” He said with concern. You rolled your eyes with a smile, Nate was always a little too interested in your dating life after your stunt of choosing the worst possible people for you a while back. You’d given up the whole dating thing but he still got worried. Very sweet of him, sure, but now wasn’t the time. 

“I’m _ working _.” You explained, bemused at his poor attempt to hide his judgement. But his look of concern was replaced with confusion. Oh Nate, normally one to be quick on the uptake (especially when connecting clues leading to fabled treasures) but you’d thrown him for a loop. “Not everyone gets to recover shipwrecks in their downtime, Nathan.” You teased, figuring that you would throw him a bone.

“Working? Oh! _ Oh. _” Nate floundered, not sure how to respond appropriately to your profession. Your bemused smile gave way to a more tight-lipped one as Nate connected the dots. Of course he couldn’t have connected shit without you, but he connected them nonetheless. Nate wasn’t the type of guy to judge you for being in this business-none of your friends were-but you grew tired of their sudden shyness whenever you first mentioned being an escort. You loved this job as it paid the bills and let you travel to places without the added danger (or fun) of being shot at, but everyone still had their initial prejudices. 

“Nate,” You figured you’d lead him back onto track, having left him suffer for too long. “Why did you need me so urgently?” A switch flicked on inside him. He was back in his element.

“Well, Y/N, I happened to have found a map,” Nate drew a piece of paper out of his suit pocket and began unfolding it, crossing the bathroom to you. “That might lead us to Themyscira.” He had your full attention now. 

“The capitol city of the Amazons.” You whispered in awe.

“The capitol city of the Amazons, yea!” He nudged you out of the way so that he could spread the map out on the counter you were leaning on. With a laugh you moved, excited at the prospects of being involved in an adventure again. Civilian life was nice, but it got boring at times. However, a small problem. The map was jagged down the middle. Catching your quizzical look, Nate tripped over himself to explain. “Technically, I have _ half _ of a map, and I have a plan to get the other half.” There was always a catch with Nathan…… but the idea of discovering this and getting back into the treasure hunting business was becoming more and more intriguing-

The bathroom door swung open. Nate swore and you spun to hide the map with your body, propping yourself up on the counter with your elbows. The young woman at the door studied your almost relaxed state and Nate’s deer-in-the-headlights look. 

“I’ll, uh… come back later…” She said, slowly shutting the door. You called out a sincere thanks after her. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” He ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh at that close call. 

“Nate, it’s a public bathroom: someone was bound to come in.” You laughed, letting out some of the adrenaline you felt coursing through you. “If you want somewhere more private- where we won’t get walked in on-come to my place, tomorrow. At noon.” You start towards the door. “It was good seeing you, Nate.” You said as a goodbye as you stepped back into the dim restaurant. 

Now. You had a date to finish 


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight poured in from the open windows in your apartment. You got home late last night (or rather, early that morning), and there wasn’t enough time for you to get enough sleep to stay awake during the undoubtedly long meeting Nate was about to have with you as well as research everything you could about Themyscira. There was not enough coffee in the world that could keep you awake during these type of meetings, no matter how excited you were- something you learnt the hard way. So you chose to sleep. You hadn’t meant to come back so late, but Robert insisted on taking you to another high-end, dimly lit bar. The sunlight burned your eyes a little, but at least whatever adventure Nate was about to take you on was about to be well funded. 

So, you sat on your couch, somewhat rested, looking at the open books you pulled from your personal library (an overstocked bookshelf that you refused to acknowledge had a sagging middle shelf). You had spread out the books onto your coffee table, determined to discover all you could about Themyscira. Despite the fact that Nate was due over in an hour, you still wanted to do yourown research. You were familiar with the tale of Themyscira, as you specialised in Ancient Greek when you got your Ancient History degree (alongside a double degree in Theatre but that's neither here nor there), and knew that there were conflicting tales on who visited the mythical city and when but to know anything of value; you needed Drake.

But the clock on the wall stated it was barely eleven in the morning. Letting out a groan, you threw yourself back onto your couch. You may as well continue trying to get some more sleep in. 

***

Rough knocking at the door startled you awake. 

“Just a second!” You yelled out, pulling out your ponytail and shook your head a little in an attempt to achieve that artfully messy look. You’re glad you had the foresight to get changed when you woke up originally, so you didn’t have to rush to tug on jeans and a tee. You hurried to the door and looked through the peephole, making sure that it wasn’t rando’s at your door. You saw Nate and his gaggle of guests. “Jesus, Nate, do you really have to bash down my door?” You asked upon opening your door, stepping aside to let Nate and his party in. You recognized them as Sam, Elena and Sully. You greeted them all and led the way to your coffee table. 

“Sorry Y/N. Nate never learnt his manners.” Sam jabbed, pointedly looking at Nate, who was trying to evade his stare. You quickly picked up your books and shoved them back onto the absolutely not sagging bookshelf. Upon finishing your frantic clean-up, you stood, kind of embarrassed at the small size of your apartment. It wasn’t _ tiny _ but you didn’t exactly buy it with guests in mind. 

“Oh yea? Wonder where he learnt that from.” You shot back with a laugh. The group chuckled over Sam’s indignant _ hey! _ You rolled your eyes, good naturedly, and pulled out a chair for him (as the couch was full) with a flourish as a peace offering. Sam accepted with an equally overdone flourish. You made yourself comfortable on the floor, between Sam and Sully, elbows leaning on the table. You should probably get a new arm chair when this is all said and done. 

“Now if you’re done clowning around I’m itching to get my hands on the other half of the map.” Sully interjected, ending the bit you two had going on. 

“Calm down, Sully,” Nate cut in, unwilling to get into a battle of the wits that brought up semi-seriously held grudges, and seeing how you had already begun to formulate a remark, Nate wanted to nip that shit in the bud. “So what do we know about Themyscira everyone?” 

You decided to volunteer information first. “It was the capitol city of the Amazons, and it was rumoured to have been near the Black Sea but there are conflicting reports with Ptomley saying it’s somewhere between the Yeşilırmak River and Cape Heracleum- but theres no records of Cape Heracleum even _ existing _.” You paused for breath (and dramatic effect) as excitement coursed through you, “But according to some records that are ‘supposedly’-” you put your fingers up in air quotes “written by Plutarch but aren’t confirmed; Themyscira was in Tánais which is now the Don River. There were some attempts to find it in the 1930’s but…. nothing was ever found beyond unrelated rubble.” Your info dump came to an end. Elena and Sully who were nodding along looked at Nate expectantly. Sam reached over to inspect the map, and started to fold it in weird lines as if trying to see if making it into an origami swan type thing would reveal any clues to the whereabouts of the lost city.

With a glare, Nate snatched the map off Sam then smoothed it out lovingly over the table. “Nothing was ever found, _ that was made public knowledge _. A couple weeks ago I was….made aware of a small statue of Ares that was being held in the museum for the Ancient Greek exhibit that I was uhm.. getting for a client” Nate was hesitant to explain what exactly he was lifting it for, almost forgetting everyone else in the room were criminals of some sort. “The deal fell through with the client but not before I was able to find out that this statue-” he pulled out remnants of terracotta from his bag and scattered it over the table, “- was from Themyscira! And it contained half of the map that leads right to it!” 

Sully let out a low whistle. “So that means we need to get the other half.” 

Nate started talking again but you weren’t listening. The wheels started to turn in your head. “Do you think that the map will be in a statue of the other patron god? Apollo?” You asked. All eyes swiveled to you. 

Nate coughed, vaguely irritated at the disruption. “Well, as I was _ saying _ before I was _ interrupted _-” he sent a half hearted glare your way which you shrugged off, and apologized for with a grin. Sam pat you on the back as faux condolences. You grinned as Nate launched back into his speech. “The other statue, of Apollo, might contain the other half, because with the research my client had done before the deal-uh, was called off, I was able to piece together that the Amazons had records of trade routes and were aware of some sort of… disaster that was going to happen to them so they made their maps. At least that was what I was able to make of it.” 

“Do you have the papers from your client?” Elena asked, speaking up for the first time. Nate pulled out some papers from his bag and gently placed them on the table, next to the terracotta remains of Ares. Elena picked them up and began carefully examining them. You couldn’t help but to feel a little glad that Elena was involved from the get-go, a clear sign that Nate learnt from his mistake a few years prior. 

“Do you need a translator?” You asked, if Nate’s client had the deal fall through and now Nate was in possession of their research, it’s likely that the client was now dead and therefore unlikely to completely translate the records. 

“Here's where I was hoping you could come in. Would you be able to translate the map? It seems to be written in Ancient Greek.” He passed the map to you for you to inspect. Yep, he was right, there were some inscriptions along the torn edge that alluded to being Ancient Greek. Not to mention the inscription on the bottom edge of the map that was clearly only half a sentence. You didn’t bother trying to make out the faded text, there would be time for it later. “And,” he added, “if you come with us, we could definitely use your skills in translating whatever else we find.” 

“_ If _ we find anything.” Sully supplied, and was promptly ignored by everyone. 

Actually, Sully was right, how could you guys find anything if you don’t have the other half of the map? “So. How do we get the other half?” You asked, twisting around to look up at Nate, who had made himself comfortable in the middle of your couch, in between Elena and Sully. 

“So this display is a travelling display, and it's due to leave New Orleans in three days, where it’s going to the National Archaeological Museum of Greece, and is going to be unveiled during a patron and distinguished guests night before being released to the public.” Nate pulled out yet another map, this time the blueprints of the museum he spoke of. “If we manage to get into this patron night, we’ll be able to steal the statue if Sam and I cut the power-”

“This is sounding a bit familiar, kid.” Sully jut in, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of repeating mistakes. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a smirk from breaking out. You weren’t there at the infamous auction at the Rossi Estate but you heard the stories, completely blown away that they made it out. However, Nate was a firm believer in ‘if it worked once, it’ll work again.’ 

“Yea, so, why can’t we steal it now?” Sam asked, also not too keen on repeating the auction house fiasco.

“It’s because security is extra tight right now." Nate hesitated. "They’ve shortened the exhibition time here in New Orleans cause someone stole a piece of the exhibit.” You scoffed and gave Nate a sardonic _ congratulations _ . Even Sully started to protest the plan. “Look, Sully, if we did it before we can do it again.” You allowed yourself a small chuckle. “Plus! This time it’s better because we know that no one is going to try to switch up the auction order because _ it’s not an auction. _”

“I don’t know…” Sam looked a bit doubtful. “It seems like we’re cutting this a bit close.”

“Listen, it’ll be fine. Elena will be there because she’s writing an article for National Geographic, Sully will be there with Y/N as his date.” your head snapped to Nate in disbelief, you don’t remember being informed much less _ agreeing _ to this. Nate shrugged, this was him asking you. You let out a sigh and settled back into place.

You ignored the fluttering in your chest.

Arm candy, how hard can it be? “Sure.” You gave a little wave of your hand, a little dazzled (and vaguely amused) at his assumption. You’re locked into the plan now. No turning back.

“I don’t think I agreed to that.” Sully protested, “I don’t have a way to get in, and even _ if _I did; I doubt I could have a plus one.” Nate gave a wave of his hand, he’d sort out logistics later once everyone agrees. 

“It’s a distinguished guests event, Sully.” You explained, in an attempt to ease his worries. “It’s all old geezers attending these.” You felt a sharp pain in your back, presumably from Sully giving you a hard nudge for calling him old. You barreled on, “Plus ones are expected.” 

“Exactly!” Nate exclaimed. “And since Sam and I are already going straight to the generator, we’ll have a better opportunity to take the artifact.” 

“Do we know if the exhibit will be unveiled? Like, will there be chit chat and general walking around the museum until the exhibit is opened, or is the entire event in the exhibit?” You asked, drawing off some of your experiences from being arm candy to these events. 

“It’ll be unveiled. Sam and I’ll cut the power to the alarms and we can easily sneak in from here-” Nate points to a window above where the exhibit would be held, “-take the artifact and leave before anyone even notices! Elena, Sully, Y/N you’ll make your exit and hey presto! We’re done.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This could actually work. Sure, the plan was a little simplistic right now and missing the finer details but that’d be worked out closer to the date. Right now, it was do-able. And right now, all eyes were on you.

“Fuck it," You said. "I'm in." 

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

You hadn’t realised how much tension was in the room until everyone relaxed. You didn’t pay attention to the chatter between your friends as you tried to piece together the fragments of the statue. It was such a shame that this piece of history got smashed. But at the same time if it never got smashed then how could you discover it’s origins? The pieces slotted together almost perfectly, save for the chips that were missing that would prevent it from magically reconnecting and restoring to its former self. 

_ What if this is the only proof of Themyscria? _ You pushed that thought to the back of your mind. The sound of a metallic lighter flicking yanked you out of your thoughts. 

“Sullivan!” You exclaimed, scandalized. “Don’t smoke inside my apartment!” You moved to open the windows, fully aware that he knew that you didn't care. 

“Sorry, kid.” He replied, expertly lighting his cigar, confirming that he wasn’t sorry at all. “I gotta celebrate somehow.” 

“Celebrate outside.” You shot back, a grin tugged at the corner of your lips. You hadn’t realised how much you missed the smell of his cigars. You gave a slight shake of your head to disrupt your thoughts. _ Pull yourself together Y/N. _ Whatever was going to happen in the next coming weeks would be strictly professional. If you could regularly have 'professional' dates then you could easily not let your infatuation get the better of you. You busied yourself in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea when you realised you got so caught up in the prospect of finding Themyscira that you neglected your duties as a host. “Anybody want drinks? Food?” You called out into the kitchen. 

“Actually we’re just about to go.” Elena said, getting up from the couch. You couldn’t help but to be a little relieved. Especially as you hadn’t fully recovered from last night. 

“Aw, that’s a shame.” A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. You crossed your apartment to give Elena a goodbye hug. “It was good seeing you again.” And it was; it had been a while since you’d seen your friends in the business. 

Elena gave you a sincere smile. “See you soon. C’mon Nate, my parents are waiting on us.” Nate sighed, mumbling  _ is that a bad thing?  _ under his breath and gave you a quick hug on the way out. Sam followed suit and you said goodbye at the door. 

You turned around to face Sully still puffing away on your couch. “And you, my good sir?” You asked. Sully looked good. It’d been a while, shit, almost a year? Maybe more? Since you last saw him. Sully was wearing his classic linen pants and red silk shirt with gold embroidery running down the chest. He looked _ good _. Some wrinkles looked a little prominent on his forehead but he was still handsome. Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you power walked into the kitchen to get your almost forgotten cup of tea. And took a second to collect yourself. 

“Hey, I just started a cigar, you can’t rush me.” He said, taking a long drag for dramatic effect. You scoffed good naturedly and took a seat on the opposite end of your couch, pulling your legs into you allowing you to prop your knees up to your chest and use them as a cup holder. You hoped whatever lazily rising steam would account for the flush on your cheeks. Sully moved so he was sitting in a more comfortable position, no longer having to worry about Nate accidentally smacking him in an over enthusiastic gesture. One arm was tossed over the backrest of your couch, and one leg stretched out lazily. You watched, silently enraptured as he put the cigar back into his mouth. 

“Theres no rush.” You told a little less of a white lie. Sure, it would be nice to go back to sleep but you could bask in his presence for ages. “But I thought the nursing home had a curfew?” 

He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Real funny, kid.” You smiled, taking a sip of your tea. Sully took another drag of his cigar, letting the smoke pool out of his nose. You started to feel a bit fuzzy around the edges, the cigar smoke sanding down the sharpness of your migraine. “What are you drinking anyway?”

“Green tea.”

“Smells like shit.” 

It was your turn to laugh. “Not as bad as your cigar!” As though making a point he blew out the remaining smoke in his lungs. He opened his mouth to say something but then he paused. Sully looked like he was studying you, his eyes raked over your posture, your clothes, your amused expression. You fidgeted under his watchful eye. You were used to men drinking in the sight of you, but you were definitely not used to _ Sully _ doing it. You coughed, and it snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You look better.” He commented, finally. You sighed. That’s right. Last time you and Sully were in a room together you got stabbed in the side by some shrapnel from a grenade, on some supposedly low risk adventure. Sully was the victim of your bitching for weeks.

“I feel better.” You said, careful to not let any disappointment leak into your voice. _ You’re stupid for thinking he was checking you out _. 

He nodded towards your right side. “How's the scarring?” 

“Hm? Oh.” You lifted your shirt up to expose the right side of your ribs, showing off an impressive jagged scar that stretched itself over four of your lower ribs. “It sucked shit, Sully.” You dropped your shirt, and averted your gaze. Sully had a weird look on his face and you didn’t want him thinking you blamed him for it.

“I don’t doubt that, but hey! I got you out and here you are.” He gestured to your apartment. 

Here you were indeed. Sat across the one of the only people you would ever have a genuine date with, now having to work closely with this man in order to uncover a mythical city. What a life you led. The smile slipped from Sully’s face a little as he saw you were deep in your thoughts. He took one last puff of his cigar and ashed it on the ashtray you swept to a corner of your coffee table in the cleaning frenzy. He lit another cigar. You frowned.

“Do you think it’ll actually work?” You asked, in a low voice, more talking to yourself than him. 

Sully took another long drag. He understood your anxiety; the last adventure you went on almost knocked you out of the game. And not by choice. “Kid’s got a plan.” He said. “And he’s never steered me wrong before.” 

_ Yea, _ ** _you_ ** . The thought darkened your face. While Nate had given you no reason to be worried about double-crossed there was definitely the valid concern of situations getting hairy. _ Especially _ with Drake’s track record. You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. “Yea, you’re right.” You took a sip of your tea, now cold. “Do you need help getting into the patron night?”

Sully waved you off. “I have contacts.” You nodded.

You two sat in comfortable silence, Sully puffing at his cigar and watching the smoke spiral in the air before dissipating and you sipping your tea occasionally. It was comfortable silence until you started delving into your thoughts. Why did Sully stay behind when everyone else had left? Was it guilt from when you almost turned into a pin cushion? Why did he keep looking at you like _ that _ ? You couldn’t determine what _ that _ was; Sully knew too well how to disguise his emotions. But that didn’t mean you weren't able to determine something was off with the older man. Your eyes drifted off into space, your surroundings turning fuzzy the way they did when you didn’t care to keep the world in focus. Nate’s deal turned bad and his client was dead, but that didn’t mean the information of Themyscira died with them. What would the odds be of your ragtag team coming across competition? 

Sully coughed, putting an abrupt end to your spiral. “You gotta worry less, kid.” You scowled. For a man who hated his age being pointed out, he sure loved reminding people of it.

“Worrying got me this far, didn’t it?” You hadn’t meant to sound so gloomy and immediately put on a half hearted smile, you didn’t want to worry Sully. You stood up, suddenly feeling like his gaze was burning you. “Do you want some drinks?” 

Sully coughed again, and stood too. “No, I, uh. I’ve got to go.” Sully became awkward and started for the door, not evening giving you the chance to give a proper goodbye. Sully paused in the doorway and you felt your chest rise as you saw that he was preparing to say something. But his mouth snapped shut and he shook his head. “See you later, kid.” And with that, he shut the door on the way out. 

Fuck, okay. Ouch. That was fine, Sully said a goodbye in his own gruff way. That’s _ fine _ you insisted to yourself. _ I’m not going to get hung up on Sully, of all people _. As you slumped back onto your couch, drained of energy, you had a feeling it was going to happen whether you wanted it to or not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everytime i use a ; i hope that im correct cause its always a shot in the dark


	4. Chapter 4

The next couple weeks merged together. You met with more clients in an effort to ensure you wouldn’t run out of funding halfway through the adventure. You knew that it was slightly unnecessary as you'd gathered up an amount over the years but working served as a good way to get your mind off the stress of the heist. 

As it was, you were on a date two days before flying out to Greece. One of your more... _flashy_ clients had asked you to accompany him to a work event held at some private art gallery. He paid well and was generally very nice, so you had agreed. Now, you were draped on his arm wearing a favourite of his: a floor length red dress that dipped into your cleavage enough for it to be sultry, but left enough covered to keep it classy. Your hair was in an updo and you were adorned in gold jewellry, including a dainty gold chain necklace that wrapped around your neck once before merging into a long chain dipped into your cleavage. You felt everyone's eyes on you at one point or another. Of course you did. With long legs and a figure that screamed _ touch me!!!!!! _ (something you didn’t mind, _ when _ you wanted that person to touch you. Otherwise their wandering hands would be shattered) you knew you were pretty. And your clients knew it too. That’s why they came back to you: you boosted their egos by knowing how to talk the talk, walk the walk and look the look. 

You weren’t particularly interested in small talk tonight, preferring to sip from the champagne glass and only commenting every now again. Your date, the assistant director or director or _ whatever _ of a high-end art curating company had chalked it up to nerves, assuming it was your first time at one of these events. _ If only he knew _ you thought darkly to yourself. You didn’t make a habit of talking about events with other clients, preferring for them to think that you were a newbie and simply just very very pretty.

You were pretty.

But.

This wasn’t your first rodeo.

This client, Greg, liked the finer things in life and he liked showing _ you _ the said finer things. So when he took you on a tour of the art gallery you took a grateful sip of the champagne. Your job got a whole bunch easier as you could stick with ‘ooh’s and ‘aaah’s as he explained the history behind the paintings. You were enjoying yourself as you watched Greg dance around the fact that many of these paintings were stolen or presumed missing, but you played dumb. It’s not like you had any moral high point. 

Greg was those kind of clients that liked to keep a point of contact on you, so when he gently pulled his arm out of the tangle you had created with his arm and placed it on the small of your back you only grimaced and took another sip of your near empty champagne. 

“Greg, honey,” You didn’t lean into him (you didn’t like him enough to be unnecessarily close), “Can I get another glass of champagne?” You asked with wide eyes, turning into him slightly, so that you were pressed up against him, just barely. 

“Of course.” He waved down a waiter and gently plucked the empty chute from your hand and swapped it for a full one. “I should also introduce you to some of my co-workers.” He leant into your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I know they’ve been staring at you all night.” The grip around your waist tightened. 

You giggled, squashing down your instinct to roll your eyes. You took sip of your champagne, mulling about your response. “If you insist. But I doubt they’re half as interesting as you.” His hand slipped from your waist to the curve right above your ass. This man really was pulling out all the stops tonight. He was cute, and willing to pay but unfortunately he dabbled too much in the criminal world for you to get involved safely. If any client was too involved with your _ real _line of work- well. It was best to keep them separate. Less mess that way.

Greg chuckled. “You’re too sweet.” His eyes flickered up from your face to someone approaching. “Ah, here let me introduce you to someone.” You followed his gaze, smiling lazily until you saw someone that made you short circuit. 

“Victor Sullivan!” Greg greeted. “This man helped me expand this collection.” He murmured to you, as if you needed an introduction. _ If only he knew. _ Greg, sensing you stiffen, gave you what was supposed to be a reassuring pat on the back but instead sent you spiraling further into disassociation. “Victor, this is my date, Y/N L/N.”

_ Please don’t say anything please don't say anything please don’t say anything _ you begged internally as you stuck your hand out, hoping he would shake it. _ PLEASE don’t say anything please don’t say anything- _ you watched in muted panic as he reached out to grab your hand. Your hand went limp in his grasp as he did the unexpected. He brought your hand to his lips to kiss your hand. 

You bluescreened. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He said in a low voice, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. He slowly let your hand back down before letting it go, his fingers lingering over yours. Your hand hung limp by your side. _ What. The. Fuck._

Greg’s sudden grip around your waist broke you out of your stupor. “The pleasure’s all mine.” You said, feeling like you were coming out of a fog. You stared at Sully’s face in shock as he eyed your neck and followed the necklace all the way down to your cleavage. If you had blinked you would’ve missed his eyes lingering at the end of the chain. 

_ HUH?! _

Sully smiled and turned to Greg. “Showing off your hard work, are you Greg?” He asked, in his normal teasing manner. You got whiplash. Did that really just happen? Did _ Sully _ just _ check _ ** _you_ ** _ out?! _ Your date’s low rumble of a laugh pulled you out of your brain fog. _ You’re working, moron. _ No point paying attention to someone who wasn’t paying for your attention.

“Oh please, you were the one who actually got the pieces.” 

“Now, don’t sell yourself short. You were the mastermind after all.” Sully gave one of his diplomatic laughs. Okay, so this was more familiar territory. You settled back into the side of Greg wrapping an arm around his waist. A conversation that you were a part of in the sense you were standing there but not actually invited to take part of. Too easy. “What do think of _ our _ hard work, Y/N?” 

That bastard. You let out a light laugh. “I think that it’s very… impressive.” There, a neutral compliment. You shot Sully a look. _ You happy? _ The uptick of a smirk forming on his lips said otherwise. No, he wanted to extend your suffering. You inwardly screamed. 

“What’s your favourite piece, Y/N?” You pointedly ignored the way Sully lingered on your name like it was a sweet he had been saving for a special moment. “I helped Greg recover a sizable portion of this collection, I bet he could tell you the story of retrieving it.” Greg chuckled. 

“Uhm, well.” You floundered, you really should’ve paid attention to when Greg was lecturing you. “I like the Van Gogh one. The one with the poppies.” 

Greg started caressing your side lightly. Sully frowned, in another blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment before carefully rearranging to polite interest. “Ah yes,” Greg hummed in appreciation. “_ Poppy Flowers _ or, _ Vase and Flowers _. That’s one of my favourites. But unfortunately-” he shot a glare at Sully, who put his hands up good naturedly. “I think the story of how we got it might be a bit long and a bit too crass for tonight.” 

“Aww.” You complained. _ End this conversation, Greg, or I’ll end myself. _ “Maybe next time?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

He nodded. “Maybe next time.” Your eyes flickered to Sully, who was eyeing at you far too intently for someone who wasn’t your date. His frown was barely disguised. Was he disgusted by you? _ Oh God. _ Your heart dropped like an anchor to your stomach as the puzzle pieces slid into place. That explained why he frowned when Greg started to be more touchy. Sully probably didn’t want anything to do with you after catching you working. _Fuck. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

“I don’t want to keep you here all night, Victor.” Your date said, “We’ll go mingle for a little while and come back later?” Greg asked in the type of way where he wasn’t asking. Sully said something pertaining to an agreement and you were whisked away.

In the flurry you didn’t notice Sully staring after you. 


	5. Chapter 5

Sully hadn’t expected to see  _ you _ of all people. Much less attached to the arm of a former colleague. Much,  _ much, _ less wearing a dress that knocked the wind out of him. The dress clung to you in ways that made Sully’s heart jump into his throat and made him uncomfortably aware of how his pants tightened when he stared at you for too long. 

Once Greg had excused you and himself from the conversation with Sully, he stood in silent shock and watched your hips sway. 

_ Jesus. _

Okay. Sully needed to pull himself together and pull himself together  _ now _ . You weren’t the first pretty girl he’d seen and he wasn’t about to let you be the first girl that turned him into a muppet. He checked his watch, it was late enough for him to leave without it being a social faux-pas. Sully did the rounds, saying goodbye to some people and picked up one more glass of scotch to prep himself for saying goodbye to you.

***

The other people Greg had introduced to you helped you slip back into your element. You quickly began to enjoy the theatrics of feigning interest and commenting here and there and laughing when the situation called for it. A dance you were well versed in. And, hey, it made you feel like your degree in theatre had some use. You felt better, now that Sully was out of your sight and out of mind. The champagne was taking effect, making you a little more relaxed and laugh a little louder. Although you still made sure to keep some space-no matter how small-in between you and Greg. A silent reminder that you weren’t completely up for his grabs. 

Then- oh  _ then _ -

Sully crossed into your field of view. He looked comfortable, casually holding a glass of a drink ( _ probably scotch, _ you mused. You spent enough time around that man to know his drink of choice. Two fingers and three ice cubes.), as he held easy conversation with other patrons. The conversation muted itself around you as you watched him end conversations with a handshake and a gesture you interpreted as him signalling that it was his time to go. Your heart deflated a little and you all but slammed the champagne chute into your lips as though the bubbles would act as a revitalizing potion.  _ Fuck’s sake, Y/N. _

“Victor!” At the sound of your date’s voice you unwillingly pulled yourself into the land of the living. “Leaving so soon?” The temporary effect of the champagne immediately dissipated.  _ Leaving? _ You closed your eyes, taking an unusually long blink in order to take a second to collect yourself. 

Working. You were  _ working. _ And not with Sully. You were working with  _ Greg _ who had his arm around your  _ waist _ because he was your  _ date _ and you were  _ working _ , Y/N.

When you opened your eyes you saw Sully studying your face carefully. You shifted under his stare and pointedly leaned into your date, emboldened by the champagne and the sudden need to be petty. Sully’s face darkened. Maybe using your client to make your future coworker jealous wasn’t a very smart idea.  _ What a big brain move right there, idiot. _ And - Wow, the way the pattern in the marble twisted and turned looked super interesting.

“Yea.” Sully said, almost apologetic. “I got work to do tomorrow.” Your eyes snapped up from the floor. You frowned; he was lying but it wasn’t your place to call him out on it.

Greg chuckled. “Ah, we’ve all been there. Trying to get a little bit of fun before we get back into the office.” Sully’s eyes tracked Greg’s hand as it slipped from your waist and disappeared from view where it undoubtedly came to rest on the small of your back. Sully clenched his jaw. He wasn’t the type of man to get envious, but something about how your eyes had fluttered and you had smiled at the contact made Sully’s chest tighten. Of course, there was the implication that Greg’s fun for the night was  _ you _ \- 

Sully didn’t like that. 

He let out a polite half-laugh to cover how much he would rather tug you out of Greg’s grasp and into his. “Well, I’m off. Good seeing you again Greg.” Sully was a goddamn liar. He could’ve gone his whole life not seeing Greg again,  _ especially _ with you in his clutches. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N.” He said, with a tone of finality. 

You choked out a goodbye.

***

Sully stepped out into the cool night air, feeling like he could breathe for the first time. He cursed Nate as he trudged down to his car. Oh would it be a good thing to go to an event, Nathan? Hm? It’d be a good thing to get him out of his apartment? 

“Goddamn it.” He had no idea as to why he was so worked up. 

No, that wasn’t quite right.

He had no idea as to why he was worked up, _that he was willing to entertain_. 

The sound of gravel crunching under feet echoed in the parking lot. Sully paused- was he followed? He glanced over his shoulder and glowered. You and Greg were walking down to Greg’s car, deep in conversation, you threw your head back to laugh at something Greg said. The light from the streetlights glimmered off your necklace. Sully’s chest tightened. The ability to breathe disappeared.  _ Goddamn it. _ He thrust his hand in his pocket to fish out his keys and unlock his car. Sully took his frustration out on his car, roughly opening the door and slamming it behind him. Fuck it all if you and Greg heard him. Sully shoved the keys into the ignition and zipped out of the estate towards home. 

***

The slamming of a car door broke you out of your conversation. You watched, with brows furrowed as a white car whizzed down the driveway. 

“That man wasn’t a happy chap.” Greg commented, utterly disinterested. 

“Do you know who it was?” You asked, a little concerned for that person's well-being. 

“No idea.” Greg shrugged. “I’m sure it’s fine.” A white limousine pulled up to the car park. You tore your eyes away from the tire marks that car left behind. “Here’s our ride, darling.” Greg rubbed circles on the small of your back, just barely brushing over your ass. You smiled, internally mocking his attempts at trying to get you in his bed. Not happening, buddy. Although… Greg wasn’t unattractive; with salt and pepper hair and a 5 o’clock shadow. You shoo’d the thought out of your mind. The champagne caught up to you much quicker than you thought it would.

_ And. _ A little voice in your head scolded.  _ You’re mad at Sully. _

Greg led the way down to the limousine and opened up the door for you. You clambered in, tugging on his tie to pull him in after you. Honestly, the difference between your sexual experiences in high school and as an adult was that you made out in the back of fancy cars as opposed to the back of shitty cars. 

***

Sully slammed his apartment door shut. Much of his steam had been worked off in the ride back home, during which he definitely broke traffic laws but, whatever. His mind kept flashing images of you in his mind: the dress hanging off of you, your hips swaying, the chain dangling in between your breasts. 

Sully let out a low groan. His pants grew tighter. Scrambling for a cigar, he started to tug his clothes off with the full intention of entering a freezing cold shower. Heat coursed through his veins lazily and his cock twitched as he thought of making your eyes flutter. He brought a cigar to his mouth, taking a long drag and letting the tobacco slow his heart rate down. You were less than half his age. Plus, you two were about to work closely for an indefinite amount of time. He didn’t need the added stress of not being able to look you in the eye cause he jerked off to you. He’d worked with women that he had thought about in… that way, but only because he was already sleeping with them. Sully’s mind drifted to Marlowe and all the good that working with her brought. 

Yep. That did it. That was the convincing he needed to not think of you. There would be no good brought to Sully if he thought of you shrugging the dress off your shoulders exposing your- 

_ Shower. _ He thought, desperate to scrub his mind clean. Sully took another drag of the cigar before putting it out. He turned the lights on his bathroom and made a beeline for the shower. The pressure of the water, coupled with the ice cold temperature shocked him out of his thoughts. 

But… would it be so bad if he thought of you like that? His reputation of scoundrel as a younger man was well earned and it wasn’t like he had completely left that life behind. Sully was a grown ass man, capable of making eye contact with women regardless of if he masturbated to them in the shower or otherwise. Resigning himself to whatever awkwardness Sully could create (a future him problem, for sure), he turned the hot water on.


	6. Chapter 6

The whirr of Sully’s pride and joy was worryingly loud and rattled far too much for an airplane that was supposedly in mint condition. In fact, as you trudged closer, tugging your bags behind you, you could see poorly patched over bullet holes. Not exactly the most reassuring thing. 

“It’s not as much as a death trap as it looks.” Nate said in a completely not reassuring manner. He saw your frown and laughed at you as he loaded your bags onto the plane. “I made sure that there's enough working parachutes for all of us.” The emphasis on ‘working parachutes’ did all but nothing to ease your anxiety. Steeling yourself, you climbed onto the plane.

The interior looked a lot better than the outside. Retrofitted red leather seats came with seatbelts (earning a point in the safety department), there was storage to hold your bags and additional necessities to make the long flight bearable. And Nate had the foresight to bring an excess of blankets and pillows. You would undoubtedly yoink one for later, after Nate had tired himself out trying to prevent Sam and Elena from stealing the blankets out from underneath him. You tried to squash the disappointment down when Sully didn’t even look your way as he made himself comfortable in the pilots seat, and you tried to suppress a frown. You two hadn’t spoken in the two days since running into each other at the patron night and Sully has done everything he could to avoid eye contact with you. 

Whatever. It was a little hypocritical of him to judge your profession but, _ whatever. _

You were adjusting your seat, trying to lean the backrest back when it made an unsettling creaking noise. You gingerly pulled the backrest into an upright position, grimacing, as the sound of the seat breaking didn’t exactly instill you with confidence. Plus, the flight was about to be uncomfortable as hell. Beside you, Sam made the same mistake you did, except for him his backrest dropped a shocking amount with a _ crack _, and you laughed as he did a small sign of the cross and whispered the Hail Mary under his breath. 

“Jesus, Victor!” Sam exclaimed, “how broken are these seats?” Sully chuckled from the cockpit, and glanced over his shoulder to see where Sam was sitting. (He still didn’t look you in the face, you noted).

“Just those two seats are broken, kid.” Sam made gagging noises and you pulled a face. You ended your quest of trying to make the seat more comfortable lest you came across a condom packet or something gross like that. 

“I hope he sanitised these seats.” Sam grumbled. 

“Honestly, the whole plane needs to be sanitised.” You mumbled back, eyeing a suspicious white stain, earning a sharp laugh from Sam. Everyone on the plane, excluding Sully who was busy flicking buttons and talking into the radio, slipped into easy conversation, excited at the prospect of finally being able to be on an adventure. You recognized Sam’s tell-tale signs of restlessness: his constant fidgeting with his jeans and flicking of a lighter on and off. You hadn’t met Sam before his time in jail, but you knew of him and you knew how important he was to Nate. After your friends returned from Libertalia, you spent some time with Sam on your own exploits to recover artifacts. Your wanderlust coupled with his need to catch up on lost years meant that you two grew close.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sully’s voice cut through the conversation. Everyone straightened up and even you settled into your seat. “Please fasten your seatbelts, fasten the trays to upright and Sam stop playing with that goddamn lighter.” Sam grumbled and put it away while Nate laughed at his expense. “Prepare for liftoff, kids.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the plane started rumbling along the runway, it seemed like an eternity before the plane lifted into the air with a sickening wobble. Your stomach lurched and you began your own Hail Mary.

***

You woke from a fitful sleep to a darkened plane, your blanket barely keeping you warm. Everyone was asleep, save Sully. It was a hard fought battle to earn yourself a thin blanket from Nate’s hoard and Elena emerged the most victorious having made herself a little nest with the stolen blankets. The couple looked cute, Nate had one arm tossed over Elena while she was tucked into his chest. 

You stood up, needing to stretch. Your knees complained from being so cramped for so long. Sam stirred in his sleep and you froze, not wanting to disrupt him. You waited with baited breath as he snuggled back into his stolen pillow. Once you were sure that Sam wasn’t going to wake, you tiptoed to the cockpit, a half baked plan formed in your head.

What better way to talk something out with someone than to hold that person hostage while they were flying the plane?

You hesitated in the doorway, your impulsiveness only carried you this far and now that you were actually in the same space as Sully, it disappeared. Sully looked up from the dashboard and met your eyes for the first time since he kissed your hand (through the windshield but still, he looked at you in the eyes). 

“Hey kid,” Sully said, uncharacteristically soft. “You cold?” You smiled a mirthless smile, not sure how to react. Judging by your reflection in the windshield you looked a bit cozy with bed head and your blanket wrapped tight around you. 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. "Here," he patted at the copilot's seat, "I'll try to warm up the plane for you." You plopped yourself down in the seat, clicking the seatbelt into place. Sully produced a blanket from somewhere and dropped it in your lap. “This’ll be warmer than whatever poor excuse of a blanket you’ve got.” You nestled into it, he was right, it _ was _ warmer. You let out a sigh of content, all intentions of asking why he refused to look at you, to _ talk _ to you pretty much forgotten. 

You watched him, as he kept the steering wheel thing straight and he kept his eyes glued on the clouds in front of him. Expertly, he pulled out a cigar and lit it, all the while keeping one hand on the controls. The plane didn’t even wobble. Impressive, considering how janky the take-off was. 

“I thought you couldn’t smoke on planes?” You startled yourself, the words jumping out of your mouth before you could clamp down on them. Judging by Sully’s slight jump, you startled him too.

“My plane, my rules.” 

You didn’t want to give Sully the satisfaction of a laugh

\- _ Because you’re ANGRY at him. Remember? _ The very petty voice in your head scolded-

but you didn’t want to leave him hanging so you let out a very deadpan ‘ha.’ and glared at a spot on the horizon. 

Sully’s moustache twitched, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He glanced over at you and was surprised to see your sour expression and arms crossed. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You scoffed. “This is the first time you’re talking to me since the art exhibition-” you turned to Sully at his sharp intake of breath, “-and you’re asking ‘_ whats wrong _’?” You hadn’t meant to put as much venom into your words as you did, but seeing as Sully was looking appropriately guilty; you’d let it slide. 

Sully’s cock twitched as the memories of why he hadn’t spoken to you came flooding back into his brain and a blush crept up his neck. How Sully was going to bullshit himself out of this one, he wasn’t sure. A ‘hey kid, I saw you in that dress and then went home to have an incredible jerk-off session’ definitely wouldn’t cut it. 

_ Maybe snapping at him was a mistake _ , you thought to yourself as you watched him slowly turn red. _ You’ve really done it this time, Y/N _. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snap-”

“No!” Sully choked out. _ Shit _. He was really angry. You heard the noise of a sleepy mumble and you both quietened up, anxiously checking over your sleeping companions. Nate let out another sleepy groan and pulled Elena closer to him. You waited for him to settle before turning back to Sully, who already was staring straight ahead with a knuckle white grip on the controls. You couldn’t help but to feel a bit cut that Sully was so mad at you he couldn’t talk. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. You _ were _ sorry: sorry that you had impulsively confronted him in the middle of the night, sorry that you couldn’t let it go and most of all, sorry that this was going to impact your dynamic and force the others to bear witness to your argument. 

“No.” Sully said, much kinder this time. His grip on the controls relaxed as he struggled to find the words to explain himself that wouldn’t make him sound like a perv. “Damn it all,” he muttered to himself. That future him problem was now a current him problem and it _ sucked _. “When I saw you at the art exhibition with Greg…” Sully trailed off and now it was your turn to be mad.

“Jesus, Sully, are you _ really _ pissed cause I’m an escort? I didn’t thin-”

“No!” Sully exclaimed and before you could cut him off he barrelled on, his voice dropping back into a low tone to try to not wake anyone up. “I just… wasn’t expecting to see you, that's all. It was a shock.” 

You scoffed, incredulous. “A shock?”

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “And as for not talking to you… I’ve been… tired.” Sully had years of experience in lying and _ that _ was the lie he chose to settle on?! The floor opening up beneath him and being sent hurtling to his death suddenly didn’t sound like such a bad way to go to Sully. .

“Oh, you’ve been _ tired. _” Sully winced at your forced positive tone. You’re pretty sure your heart stopped from the anger flooding your senses. You seethed under your blankets until your body moved of its own accord. You gathered your blankets and got up. 

“Sullivan. I _ cannot _ believe you.” You hissed from over your shoulder as you stalked out of the cockpit to your seat.

Sullivan made no effort to call after you or even offer anything that could expand on his pisspoor excuse. The fucking _ gall _ of this man. 

You struggled to control your breaths and hot angry tears burned your eyeballs. You clamped your fingers around the blankets, giving you something to squeeze and pretend you were wringing the neck of a specific old man. How _ dare _ he- you couldn’t quite form thoughts in your outrage, with half sentences forming and morphing into each other. But as you simmered under the blankets, you settled on a plan.

_ Alright. _

If Sullivan didn’t want to talk to you, then you didn’t want to talk to him _ either. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long! my first semester of uni is almost over and i have heaps of assignments and i have exams coming up and oooooo boy is it stressful. theres more on the way but uhh its gonna take a while aha. anyway! i hope you enjoyed this chapter <3
> 
> p.s i chnaged a line from like chap 3 where nate and elena. its not much, just changing why they left your place it really has no impact on the story but uhh yea lmao


	7. Chapter 7

As it turned out, being as childish as someone else was  _ exhausting. _ By the time that the plane was due for its first pitstop, everyone else was aware of the tension between you and Sullivian. There was no way they hadn’t figured out that you two argued but no one wanted to be the first one to acknowledge it and break the fragile group dynamic.

And that was fine by you. You were civil with everyone else, and your curt replies to Sullivian satisfied the petty part of you  _ and  _ the part of you that still wanted to see Themyscira. Although you didn’t care for how Nate suddenly put on kid gloves and was treating you as if you had “handle with care- fragile!” stickers plastered on your forehead, and how Elena kept shooting you concerned glances. 

You were buzzing to get off the plane, sitting for too long made you restless and combined with all the anger you bottled up meant that you leg was bouncing at terminal velocity. Much to the chagrin of Sam.

“Do you mind?” He asked, waving around an unlit cigarette. “You’re shaking the whole plane.” The flick of his lighter covered your scoff.

“Didn’t notice anything different from how the plane normally is.” You shot back, goodnaturedly, moving to sit cross-legged anyway. 

Sam smiled, eager to take any opportunity to have digs at Sullivan. “Well, the plane  _ somehow _ feels more unstable.” He hid behind a cloud of cigarette smoke to avoid Elena’s glare. She’d had her years of mediating between Sam and Sullivan and whenever Sam tried to rock the boat, Elena tried to nip that in the bud. Especially since you and Sullivan were on the rocks. 

“Yea, Sully, what’s taking so long?” Nate asked, intertwining his hand with Elena’s. 

Sullivan appeared in the doorway of the cockpit. He went back to his new habit of not looking at you and you clenched your jaw to squash down the urge to scream “ _ look at me!!!” _ . 

“Well.” He announced, in that fake diplomatic tone of his,”security tightened since the last time I was here with Sam and even though I was able to grease a few palms, the authorities aren’t exactly glad I’m back.” Sam’s smoke-shield shrouded him from everyone’s glares but unluckily for Sam, since you were so close to him the smoke could do nothing to protect him from your semi-playful glare. Sam only shrugged as if to say he had no idea why security tightened. 

"Aye, aye don't be wrapping me into this. I only shot  _ back _ ." Sam explained, waving his hands about, dispersing smoke from his half forgotten cigarette. Elena was thoroughly unimpressed and even Nate was shaking his head. You laughed, amazed at his poor excuse. 

"You still shot at them, dear." Sullivan responded, the 'dear' dripped with sarcasm. Sam made a dismissive noise and wiggled his hand in the air. "Either way, we're here until I get the green light."

Well, shit. 

***

Luckily, the wait wasn’t long, and you scrambled off the plane, desperate for a chance to stretch your legs. It wouldn’t take long to refuel the plan and you had extremely limited time. Your lap of the airport took you past the overpriced stores, past the people sleeping on the seats, and straight to the bar. You ordered some chips at the bar, and were snacking on them, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when a drink slid its way down at you.

You looked up to see Sullivan leaning on the bar, nursing his own drink, looking right at you. 

“Yes?” You asked. You felt the cool glass leech off the warmth from your hand, and you pushed it away slightly.

“It’s for earlier.” Oh so he was talking to you, what a mature thing you’d expect from an adult of his age. Except, did he really think that buying you a drink was a decent apology?

“I’m sorry?” 

Sullivan let out a sigh of relief and moved closer to you. “Oh good, you get it.” 

You scoffed, and slapped his hand away from your bowl of chips. “I’ll let you have one when you apologize.” Sullivan raised an eyebrow and gestured towards your drink. “ _ Properly. _ ” 

He took the empty seat next to you and you sat back in yours, preparing for whatever emotionally stunted apology he was no doubt going to drop into your lap.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you.” He took a deep breath. “It was unprofessional of me.” And there it was, just as underwhelming as you had predicted. To be honest, you weren’t exactly someone to be very emotionally vulnerable either, and you had given your fair share of shit apologies to Sullivan over the years. In this business it was a waste of energy to keep grudges over something petty (no matter how much it pissed you off). At least now he could look you in the eye. 

(However, in the back of your mind, a plan formed to bring this up with him. Preferably over some drinks so you could avoid awkward glances by focusing on your drink. And you could steel your nerves with the same drink. Whatever, you could deal with that later.)

“Fine. I forgive you but”- you pushed the bowl of chips towards him but tugged it away as he reached to grab a chip- “I won’t forget.” You warned. Your tone lacked the venom needed to make it a serious threat but you knew that he’d get the message anyway.

Sully’s mustache twitched and he grinned. “Alright, alright. Just give me some damn fries.” You slid the bowl back to him and grabbed your drink and took a sip. You winced, it was a bit early for a rum and coke but whatever, you were on airport time now. 

“So what’s the plan?”

Sully checked his watch. “We’ve got another 30 minutes to go on refuelling and then we’re off to our next stop.” You grabbed the last chip just as Sully was reaching for it and he raised an eyebrow. “Really?” You shrugged, grinning. Sully ordered another bowl. 

“Is the next flight going to be any shorter? I don’t think I can handle Sam trying to take the blankets off me again." Sully laughed at your expense. "I almost socked him.” 

“This one’s shorter, don’t worry kid.” 

“I’ve never heard better news.” 

You two slipped into easy conversation, banter flowing comfortably until it was time to load back onto the plane.

Sully stood up, somewhat awkwardly. You could see that he was mulling something over in his mind. He opened his mouth, and reached out, as if he was going to clasp you on the back. Sully hesitated, pulled back a little, then reached to grab the last chip, forgotten in the bowl. 

_ Odd. _

Ignoring the fact that Sully had clearly malfunctioned to some degree, you followed him as he led the way back to the plane. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like. i call fries like, hot chips, and idk it felt weird to write fries but it felt weird for sully to call them chips? anyway im definitely going to pepper in my slang good luck guys


End file.
